


Buon Natale, Darling!

by LuckyPanda13



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: I Don't Speak Italian, I Hope It's Right, Italian, Kinda, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2014560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyPanda13/pseuds/LuckyPanda13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas and Eames won't stop bothering Arthur, in Italian, no less!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buon Natale, Darling!

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to apologize to anyone who speaks Italian. Because I have no earthly idea if the Italian I wrote in makes any sense. What is on the page is what I translated using multiple translation sites and figuring out what translation they would all agree upon. Thinking back, I probably should have done a language I at least have some basis in, rather than one I thought would be funny.
> 
> Much thanks to betta_92 and DomLerrys for helping me fix the Italian!

“ _Buon Natale_ , darling!” Arthur looked up at the Forger through his lashes. Slowly, he lifted his head to acknowledge the man, knowing that every second that passed in awkward silence was another dig at the older man’s buttons. Eames, for his part, was sprawled all over the desk, somehow managing to be everywhere, but not on top of Arthur’s work. Eames was grinning he held out a candy cane in a peace offering for the Point Man. Arthur glanced at the candy then back to Eames and quirked his eyebrow. “Do you not speak Italian, love?”

“Please get off my desk.”

“Aw, but darling…” Eames pouted, but obeyed the order, still holding out the mint candy for Arthur to take.

“Eames! Get over here!” Ariadne called from the room she had claimed in the apartment. The Forger pouted even more and dropped the candy cane on Arthur’s desk before stalking off.

“Ari!” He said, showing none of the disappointment in his voice. Arthur didn’t know why the Forger enjoyed bothering him as much as he did, but there were moments when Eames was almost, dare he even _think_ the word, _charming_. Arthur eyed the candy cane, his face flushing as he picked up the treat and sucking on it. He pulled the die from his pocket and rolled it, knowing better than to trust his senses.

“Arthur, can you get me some information about–” Ariadne started.

“It’s on your desk.” Arthur interrupted, pausing in his snack to grin at a job well done.

“Where? I can’t–”

“Under the letters from Phillipa and James.” Ariadne’s soft ‘oh’ of surprise had the Point Man chuckling to himself. He always felt particularly accomplished when he could get the information necessary for the job long before the team even _thought_ about needing it. He stuck the candy cane back in his mouth and continued on the sketch he had been working on. He had already gotten all the information he possibly could for the job already and they still had another week to prepare. Arthur had decided to start drawing to alleviate the boredom he felt waiting for Ariadne and Eames to finish their portion of the work. He had always taken to doodling and sketching when he had nothing to do.

“ _Sei affamato,_ darling?” Eames poked his head around the door frame to the room Arthur had claimed as his office. Arthur looked up from the sketch, his face flushing as Eames spotted the candy and grinned happily.

“What?” Arthur had no idea why Eames was staring at him like that. It was like Arthur was a mark who had taken the bait perfectly and Eames was planning on closing the trap soon.

“Aren’t you hungry, pet?” Eames replied, misinterpreting the question. Arthur popped the candy out of his mouth and licked his lips. Eames eyes followed the action.

“Sure.” Arthur shrugged, taking a swig from the glass of water at his side.

“Yay!” Eames once again managed to take up the entirety of Arthur’s desk without actually covering up or messing up the sketch he had been working on. “Where shall we go?”

“I was thinking we should stay in.” Arthur replied. Eames pouted, but his entire persona changed when someone knocked at the door. He jumped ever-so-slightly and his eyes narrowed at the Point Man. Eames made his way to the front door as Arthur popped the candy back in his mouth and listened intently, biting back his laughter. Eames answered the door with the charm and grace he had been wearing for years, laughing his fake laugh as he shut the door moments later.

“Chinese, Ari!” Eames called.

“Thanks, Eames!”

“Arthur got it.” Eames replied, amused and proud.

“Thanks, Arthur!” The woman called brightly. Eames entered the room with a pile of little white boxes, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out Arthur.

“How did you manage all this, love?” He handed over the boxes and settled into the chair across the desk.

“Internet.” Arthur shrugged, carefully wrapping the candy cane up before gulping down water. He then started digging into his food, consciously aware of Eames’ eyes on him.

“ _Ti amo, mio caro._ ” Eames murmured, so softly that Arthur was sure he wasn’t meant to catch it. The Point Man flushed and started choking in surprise.

“What?” He breathed as soon as he was able.

“What’s wrong, pet?” Eames asked around a mouthful of food and chopsticks, making it sound more like “ugh on, eh” than actual words.

“What did you say?” Arthur narrowed his gaze suspiciously at the Forger. Eames chuckled with a grin and swallowed his mouthful.

“It’s Italian. Don’t you know Italian, darling?” He teased. Arthur frowned, but let the subject drop, preferring to focus on the lo mein before him.

“Don’t burn down the apartment!” Ariadne ordered, poking her head into the room. “I’ve got to go get supplies.”

“AKA: meeting up with her lover.” Eames muttered with a grin. Ariadne flushed and stuck her tongue out.

“It’s almost Christmas! I’m allowed to spend a holiday with my boyfriend!” She whined.

“Just come back the day after tomorrow.” Arthur smiled. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

“Thanks, Arthur!” She came in and pecked them both on the cheek. “Have a good Christmas, you two.” She ordered. Eames snickered as she practically ran out the door, calling goodbyes as she shut the door to the apartment behind her. Arthur went back to his Chinese food, ignoring the way the Forger’s gaze settled on him.

“Why did you do it, pet?” He finally asked.

“Do what?” Arthur blinked.

“Let her go like that.” Eames gestured vaguely to the door with his chopsticks.

“It’s Christmas Eve. I’m not _that_ strict.” Eames gave Arthur a disbelieving look. “I’m not!” Arthur decided to ignore Eames as he finished his dinner and deposited the trash in the large bag they kept in the hallway. At one point, there was supposed to be a container for their trash, but they all got caught up in their jobs and leaving a bag sitting on the floor wasn’t too terribly bad anyway. Arthur sat down and continued working on his art, ignoring the loudest pout Eames had ever thrown on his face.

“Aren’t you going to celebrate Christmas, darling?” Eames asked, finally fed up with how Arthur was ignoring him.

“No.” Arthur didn’t even hesitate or pause in his drawing. A loud clatter tore his attention from the paper. Eames was out of sight and the chair was upside down. Arthur stood and saw the Forger on the floor, the rest of his food all over his shirt. Arthur smothered the grin at the sight and instead kept it to an amused smirk, complete with a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t celebrate Christmas?” Eames was gobsmacked.

“No.” Arthur walked around the desk and offered the man a hand up. Eames didn’t move.

“ _Why not_?” Eames sounded positively offended.

“I’m too busy.” Arthur bent over and took Eames’ hand, hoisting him to his feet.

“No. I’m fixing this.” Eames announced. “You’re going to learn all about Christmas.”

“I know all about Christmas, Eames.” Arthur began cleaning the mess from the floor.

“No! You don’t! You’re poor soul is _deprived_ , darling!” Eames gasped, far more melodramatically than necessary. Arthur listened, amused, to the ranting Forger as he cleaned the carpet, threw the trash away, righted the chair, and walked to the bathroom to clean Eames’ shirt. The Englishman didn’t even blink when Arthur helped him out of his shirt and started rinsing the syrup from the fabric. Eames didn’t pause in his rant until Arthur noticed the stain had reached his undershirt and he ordered the Forger to take it off.

“Didn’t realize you swung that way, darling.” Eames grinned, apparently completely forgetting his mission to “educate the poor darling on the miraculous wonders of winter holidays”. Arthur rolled his eyes and continued working the sauce off Eames’ button-down. Arthur steeled himself not to stare at the Forger as he stripped. “ _Ti piace quello che vedi,_ pet?” Eames murmured, his voice practically dripping sex. Arthur pretended like he hadn’t flushed as he thrust the clean, albeit wet, clothing at the Brit.

“Here.” The tiny doorway didn’t allow any room for the Point Man to squeeze past the larger man.

“Something wrong, love?” Eames’ voice lost the teasing quality and shot straight to worried. Arthur shook his head and shoved past the man. Eames followed the younger man back to his office where Arthur started doodling again, sucking on the candy cane and calming his blush. “Arthur?” The Point Man suppressed a shiver at the English accent curling around his name lovingly.

“ _Sono stanco._ ” He mumbled around the candy cane.

“What?” Eames was floored.

“ _Sono stanco._ ” Arthur said slowly, as if speaking to a child, his accent and pronunciation perfect.

“ _Parli italiano?_ ” Eames could barely speak past the lump in his throat. The Point Man had given absolutely no indication that he had understood anything Eames had said.

“ _Fluentemente._ ” Arthur confirmed with a shrug. Eames couldn’t stop the shiver that slipped up his spine, feeling heat pool in his gut as his face became flushed. Arthur blinked in surprise as Eames collapsed in the chair, chest heaving. “Eames? _Cosa c’è che non va?_ ”

“D-darling…” Arthur watched in fascination as Eames stared blankly back, his breathing getting heavier with every word. He swallowed thickly, trying to speak.

“ _Stai male?_ ” Arthur slipped the candy cane from his lips, becoming somewhat concerned even as he teased the Forger. He knew he was being absurd maintaining the Italian, but it was amusing to see Eames get his buttons pushed for once. Eames’ eyes dilated and followed the motion of Arthur’s tongue as he wetted his lips.

“You are so gorgeous.” The Brit breathed. Arthur flushed and gripped the totem in his pocket tightly. Eames stood and slowly stalked around the desk, watching with amusement how Arthur rolled the die compulsively. Eames took Arthur’s wrist gently, stopping the nervous tick. Arthur couldn’t speak as his eyes sought out the Forger’s face, having no earthly idea why he was terrified. Eames turned Arthur’s hand up to properly look at the innocent die. His eyes widened, as did his cocky grin, when he spotted the unassuming cube.

“Do you remember what I said earlier, love?” Eames asked, helping Arthur to his feet and dropping the candy cane on the desk.

“ _Ti amo…_ ”Arthur mumbled, stepping back from the Brit with nervousness he had never felt before.

“ _Sì, mio caro. Ti amo._ ” Eames kept moving forward, forcing Arthur to back up until he hit the wall.

“Eames, what are you–”

“In Italian, darling.” Eames used his entire body to cage Arthur against the wall, knowing full well how easily the Point Man could beat the snot out of him if he didn’t like where things were headed. “You’re so sexy in Italian.” The husky accent curled around Arthur’s ear, drawing a shiver up his spine. Eames maneuvered a leg between Arthur’s and used one large hand to trap the fist that still held the die against the wall.

“ _Non so che cosa si–_ ” Arthur started until Eames groaned loudly and dropped his forehead onto Arthur’s shoulder.

“I remember this die.” Eames grunted, voice becoming gruff and accent thickening. The memory flooded Arthur’s mind. The high-class casino, the crowded areas, the threat of getting caught cheating, Eames teaching him to shoot craps even when he didn’t want to, the first time the Forger got him to smile, the first time the Forger kissed him. Granted, the kiss was on the back of Arthur’s neck as the Englishman stood behind him, but it was the first time Arthur had relaxed around the Forger. It was also the moment Arthur lost his heart to the older man. Arthur took great care to ensure the Brit never had a clue about his affections. It took a lot of sneaking around to ensure he never saw the totem Arthur stole from that stupid craps table in Vegas. All Eames knew was Arthur’s talent for knowing where, and more importantly, _who_ he was at any given time.

“Eames…” Arthur couldn’t move, could barely _speak_ , and the hot body pressed against his was giving him the _best_ fantasy he had _ever_ experienced–

“I wanted you so _bad_ that night, love. You were too deliciously _sexy_ for your own good.” Eames ground out as his hips unconsciously rolled against Arthur’s. The Point Man felt a whimper emerge from his chest and he managed to swallow it into a groan. He felt his body heat up with arousal as the want, the _need_ , built up in his chest.

“ _Per favore..._ ” Arthur breathed. Eames groaned loudly, somehow finding the control to tease the younger man.

“Arthur, if you don’t want this, say ‘no’ now, or I won’t be able to help myself.” The Forger managed to pull back from the Point Man.

“ _Sì,_ Eames. _Di più._ ” Arthur shifted under the intense heat of Eames’ body and gaze and the weight of his groans of appreciation. He had been pinned to the wall for so long, ten minutes, ten seconds, ten years, he didn’t know.

“Tell me what you want, love.” Eames husked, lips brushing over Arthur’s neck, finding all the little spots that made the Point Man shiver.

“ _Per favore._ ” Arthur begged breathlessly.

“Fuck, you’re making me so hard, pet.” The Forger gritted. “That fucking _language_ …”

“ _Non ti piace?_ ” Arthur didn’t know where his voice came from, but he knew the grin came from the pure adoration on the older man’s features. Eames shoved their mouths together, kissing his American deeply and with all the fierceness he could muster.

“ _Yes…_ ” Eames moaned, his lips still grazing against Arthur’s. “Yes, I _do_ like, darling.” Eames kissed him again and again, making quick work of the layers of clothing the Point Man had. The air felt cold to Arthur’s skin, providing a sharp contrast to where Eames and he touched. The Forger dropped to his knees as he got rid of the pants and underwear in his way.

“ _Oh Dio!_ ” Arthur kept the die digging into a fierce fist beside his head where Eames had left it while his free hand buried into Eames’ hair. Arthur started moaning like a wanton whore as Eames sucked him down. For his part, Eames was removing the rest of his own clothes without losing the necessary condom and lube while trying to keep his American entertained.

“Want something, love?” Eames teased, slicking his fingers.

“ _Dammelo._ ” Arthur ordered, eyes fierce with need.

“So fucking hot.” Eames moaned, leaning his forehead against the Point Man’s hip. “Luckily enough for us, darling, I’m prepared.” Arthur hissed as slick, cool fingers probed his ass.

“ _Non ti fermare!_ ” Arthur growled as Eames slowed his preparation. His hips rocked as a second finger joined the first. “ _Non mi romperai!_ ” Arthur was going to _murder_ Eames if he didn’t stop treating him like he would break. He wanted the Englishman to fuck him into oblivion, but the infuriating man was taking his own sweet time with _whatever_ he was doing. Arthur took his revenge by letting his Italian accent thicken as he begged Eames to hurry the fuck up. With every passing syllable, Arthur could feel the older man tense with need.

“Fuck, darling…” He groaned, managing to get the condom on despite shaking fingers.

“ _Se non mi scopi ora, ti uccido cazzo._ ” Arthur swore. Eames felt the exact moment when his control snapped. Arthur’s accent was curling around his ears, his musky scent intoxicating him, his hot skin begging to be marked, when Arthur’s eyes found Eames’ and Eames knew he was spoiled for the rest of his life. Nothing could compare to how arousing Arthur was in that moment.

One moment, Eames was on his knees with Arthur’s cock in his mouth, his fingers in Arthur’s ass, wrapping a condom around his own erection and the next he was tongue-fucking his American as his hips snapped forward again and again. One of Eames’ hands found the fist with the die in it and grasped the shaking fingers tightly. Their lips parted and Arthur’s voice cracked, the language curled sinuously around Eames’ nerves, caressing his lust and burrowing heat into his stomach as he settled into a breakneck rhythm.

Eames couldn’t focus on anything other than Arthur’s expression of pure ecstasy, the broken voice crying out in pleasure, the feeling of his American’s erection in his hand and the unbearable heat surrounding his own as he pounded Arthur’s back into the wall. It didn’t take very long for Eames to feel the deep warmth that prayed for release, but he would be damned if he finished before his American.

“Come for me, darling.” Eames breathed, trying to maintain control of his hips so he could outlast Arthur. Arthur stilled completely, body taut with tension, before he groaned a guttural, utterly arousing sound that Eames would never be able to forget, arching his back and curling his toes. Eames watched the explosion of energy in awe before the sweet release hit him like a bullet, dragging him under with Arthur.

Neither man moved, aside from the unconscious shaking of their muscles, as their heart rates and breathing calmed down, waiting for the sweat cooled on their skin. Once Eames was sure Arthur could handle standing on his own, he pulled away from the younger man with a grunt in effort. Arthur shivered, body finally calming the quakes that wracked his body since his orgasm.

“ _Sei mio._ ” Eames murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to Arthur’s temple before stumbling to dispose of the condom.

“ _Sempre._ ” Arthur agreed, making the older man groan from the hall.

“Stop.” Eames whined.

“You seemed to enjoy it.” Arthur chuckled, trying to work up the motivation to move. His overworked voice scratched in protest to his speech. He took a swig of water from the bottle on his desk, trying to relieve the slight pain.

“Of course, pet. But not so soon after I’m done.” Eames returned to the room, grinning.

“No stamina?” Arthur teased as Eames leaned heavily on the back of the chair.

“I lasted longer than you, darling.” Eames replied.

“ _Tieni il passo, vecchio._ ” Arthur rolled his eyes as he collapsed in his chair.

“Jerk.” Eames whined.

“Of course.” Arthur lazily rolled the die on the desk, grinning to himself at the result.

“Real?” The Brit asked, stalking over to his American.

“Very.” Arthur yawned and picked the die up again.

“It better be, darling. I was never this exhausted after in my dreams.” Eames said, wrapping his arms around the younger man and kissing his neck gently.

“I love it when you do that.” Arthur admitted. “Even though you only did it the once in Vegas.”

“I’ll be sure to do it more, love.” Eames promised.

When Ariadne returned on Boxing Day, she found Arthur sketching dutifully on a notepad next to Eames in a lawn chair deep in the PASIV’s false sleep. She settled down at the table, pulling out the presents she bought for the men.

“Merry Christmas!” She grinned in response to Arthur’s smile. Arthur opened his mouth to reply when Eames jolted awake between them, gasping for air. He shot a glower at the Point Man.

“You are in so much trouble, darling.”

“What happened?” Ariadne asked, concern dancing across her features.

“ _Non ti piace, amore mio?_ ” Arthur asked innocently. His voice was a lot rougher than normal, like he had been screaming far too much or he had a sore throat. Ariadne glanced between the smug American and the annoyed Brit as Eames’ eyes darkened.

“What?” She didn’t speak Italian and wasn’t exactly sure what just happened, though she was positive she heard the word “love”.

“You’re getting it later, _Arthur_.” Eames threatened with a groan and Arthur’s eyes darkened as he gasped softly. Ariadne was starting to see why the men were staring at each other like starving dogs and was relatively certain she wasn’t invited for the “later” Eames spoke of, though, if she was correct, she desperately wanted to see it. Ariadne was filled with disappointment that she had returned when she did and not five minutes later.

“ _Buona fortuna._ ” Arthur’s voice deepened. She stopped feeling disappointed when Eames tackled Arthur to the ground and committed the sight of the Brit and the American making out desperately on the floor to memory, knowing it would be fodder for her own fantasies later. Not to mention the blackmail she now had on both men.


End file.
